Pouring
by ToxiNeena
Summary: Because mixing Juvia with alcohol always has dire consequences… Rated M for language.


_**So, all of the sudden, I was just hit with a bunch of Gruvia feels... and I just had to sit down and write about them. Hope you guys like! **_

_**I was supposed to put this up yesterday, but, my friends wanted to have a LOTR and Hobbit marathon, and, well, how could I say no to that? Needless to say, I am thoroughly exhausted, but I shall put this up before I crash. And sorry, it's not beta'd! I'll be updating it a bit later with the beta'd version, so hopefully there aren't too many mistakes.  
**_

_**Leave your thoughts behind! First time taking a crack at Gruvia, and I'm anxious to hear what you guys think!**_

_**WARNING: **Mature language ahead. Gray likes to cuss. A lot. _(●´∀｀●)

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_**Pouring**_

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_**Summary:**_ _Because mixing Juvia with alcohol always has dire consequences…_

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"You let her _drink?_" seethed Gray Fullbuster as he glared daggers through narrowed, dark eyes at Cana while she lounged across the bar's table top. She giggled inanely, limply waving one hand like she was trying to shoo away a small, toy pooch. But she didn't answer him. "Oi, Cana!" Gray reached for the drunkard's shoulder, his fury growing darker with each passing second that he went without having an answer. Shaking his guild mate roughly, and not at all caring if the action caused her any discomfort, he asked, "Did you let her drink?"

Cana snorted at him and flung her head back up off the table, her hair whipping out in a brown streak that smacked him in the face and chest, much to his annoyance. She was scowling through glassy eyes. Her rosy cheeks puffed out as she exhaled and then pursed her lush lips contemplatively. "So what if I did? Girl needed a distraction, and alcohol is the best there is for that," the card mage said haughtily.

Gray slowly closed his eyes, muttering curses under his breath.

Yeah, alcohol provided a great distraction for people—all kinds of people, Gray included. But, that distraction came with a price; one that Cana was all too familiar with, and didn't really consider a consequence any longer. For others, it was still very much a heavy burden. Not only for them, but for the people around them as well. Especially the people around them.

_Intoxication_.

And, as Gray's midnight eyes locked onto Juvia while she sobbed into the shoulder of some random stranger, he knew that he was going to suffer that night. Juvia had been lost to the influence of the alcohol for a while now, it seemed, as she was blubbering animatedly—with hand motions and facial expressions and everything—to the man she was plastered to. She was sitting so close to the dude that their thighs were touching, and she had her arms wrapped, snake-like, around his bicep while she cried into his shoulder.

A complete stranger. Someone Gray sure as hell didn't recognize. A friend of hers, perhaps?

Gray gritted his teeth. "Oi, Cana," he nudged the brunette as she slouched against the bar again, "Cana, how many drinks did you give her? How many drinks?"

"Hah?" Cana huffed. Her brown eyes rolled up to the ceiling as she licked her lips, looking almost contemplative. "Just one," she slurred eventually. But, then those lips of hers parted in a dastardly grin that usually had Gray sweating bullets. "Or five."

"_Five?_ Fucking hell…" snarled the ice-make mage.

Five shots wasn't all that much for someone like Gray—hardly a drop in the pan for Cana—and for others, it was around that time when they started feeling a buzz. But, for _Juvia,_ five shots was like drinking a whole bottle of straight tequila. She was a _major_ lightweight, didn't take more than one or two shots to put her down and out for the count. And when she was down and out for the count, things tended to get a little…interesting.

Gray had had the privilege of dealing with said interesting effects a few years prior—and he'd nearly drowned. Afterwards, he'd taken great care to make sure that Juvia didn't get drunk. But _if,_ by some chance, she managed it, he was never in her immediate vicinity—because she was the sloppy, sad type; and anything he said would result in tears on her part. So many tears that she could flood a building.

But now, he realized as he glanced around the room, the only ones present this late were himself, Cana, Juvia, and the douchebag she was clinging to. The douchebag that he _still_ didn't recognize. _Seriously, who the hell was that? _Gray thought to himself, feeling his blood heat and his heart rate increase at the sight of said douchebag dragging his mangy hand down Juvia's curvy back. It…irritated him, Gray realized. Why? He didn't know. Maybe because the asshole was clearly taking advantage of Juvia's inebriated state to touch her.

That was probably it.

Juvia was his _nakama_; it was normal for him to be angry and irritated if he saw someone taking advantage of her. At least, that was what he told himself as he stormed up to the bar where Juvia and her stranger sat and snatched the guy's arm, wrenching it away from the water mage's body where it had been so _comfortably_ resting.

"Oi," Gray muttered, scowling, "who are you?" as his grip on the douchebag's wrist tightened to a painful level.

"What the hell, asshole?" the man snapped, wincing and yanking his arm away from the seething ice-make mage. He lowered his light-colored brows over green eyes that blared his anger. "And I think the real question is who the hell are _you?_"

Juvia, who had watched the interaction with wide, dark blue eyes, completely tore away from the man sitting next to her. Her pale face was flushed, cheeks petal-pink from the alcohol, and her lips—her lips that were uniquely thicker on the top and thinner on the bottom, so entirely _kissable_—puckered into a frown. "_G-Gray-sama_…" she cried, and the sound of her voice sent a spear through Gray's heart, immobilizing him.

She sounded…_heartbroken_. Crushed, devastated.

…About what?

"_Gray-sama?_" repeated her new friend, sounding incredulous, and squinted his pine-colored eyes. He turned to Juvia and jerked a thumb behind him towards Gray's rigid, but imposing, figure. "This is the guy, Juvia-chan?"

_Juvia-chan?_

Ugh, that just sounded so wrong in Gray's ears. It made him want to shiver. Saying it in the way he did made the douchebag sound like he was some sort of pedophile, eager to snatch his next victim and whisk the unfortunate soul away to his dark cave. That thought had Gray hardening like stone. How old was the guy, anyway? He looked too old to be flirting with Juvia, that was for sure.

"Juvia-chan?" Gray snorted before he could stop himself. "Just when did you get so familiar with her, huh?" The tone in his voice, Gray wasn't sure where it had come from, but it was agitated, accusatory, and blatantly instigating.

"Hah," the pedophile sneered over his shoulder, green eyes narrowed. "Maybe while you were off ignoring her or something." He ruffled his stylishly-ragged, blonde hair, brushing a few strands into his eyes in a way that most would have said made him look intimidating. Gray just thought he looked like an idiot. "Now, look, Juvia-chan and I were having a good time before you showed up—and I'm feeling generous today. So, if you get the hell out of the bar, I won't kick your ass. How's that?"

"No, no," Juvia interrupted, flailing. "Dragos-san can't hurt Gray-sama! Gray-sama is Juvia's!" The bluenette leaned forward in her chair, straining to grab hold of the douchebag, Dragos's—and man, what a stupid name that was, Gray thought—clothes. But, she was entirely uncoordinated, and somehow managed to slip out of her stool, falling face-first towards the ground at an alarming rate.

She landed with a dull _thunk_.

Luckily, Gray had been watching her like a hawk. And, faster than Dragos could have blinked, the ice-make mage was kneeling on the bar's dingy wooden floor, cradling Juvia into his bare chest. Huh, _bare_ chest, he noted as he looked down.

Where the hell had his shirt gone to? Ah, well, whatever. It didn't really matter at this point as long as he still had his pants on, he supposed.

"Oi, Juvia, you okay?" he asked as he settled her more comfortably in his arms. Her body, while it had death-defying curves that were dangerously tantalizing, was slight when compared to his own which was filled out with thick, ropey muscle over iron-hard bone. And as he used his free hand to turn her face to the side—inspecting for any injuries, of course—he couldn't help but notice how soft she was. "Juvia?" he repeated.

His onyx eyes zeroed in on the red spot on her forehead, and his mouth turned down into a sympathetic frown. She'd be sporting a bruise tomorrow, that was for sure.

"G-Gray-sama…" came the pitiful whimper from the bluenette, and she sniffled. "Juvia is sorry. Juvia didn't mean to fall…"

Gray sighed. It seemed she was fine. Just very, _very_ drunk. Something he'd have to talk with Cana about later—no way in hell was he ever leaving Juvia alone with that drunkard again. "It's all right," Gray assured the water mage. "But, come on; let's get you out of here." And he glared up at her new _friend,_ Dragos. "Thanks for looking after my _nakama_," he bit out, not bothering to even try and shroud the acidly-sarcastic note in his voice.

"Oi," Dragos snapped when Gray went to stand up, still clutching Juvia to his chest. "Just where the hell do you think you're taking her?"

It was a bit of a struggle for the ice-make mage to right himself, seeing as Juvia was too drunk to move and was more of a deadweight than anything else. She couldn't even stand while she was leaning into his side; her knees were so wobbly and boneless, like they were made of gelatin. He would have to piggy-back her all the way back to Fairy Hills, he realized with a groan.

"Home," Gray said. "She's had enough for one night." Enough for a few months, he thought to himself with a grim half-chuckle. Double-checking to make sure that he was still wearing his black, denim pants—which he was, thankfully—he turned so that Juvia was pressed into his back, and he squatted down. Without his weight, Juvia swayed on her feet, and he had to reach behind him and guide her slender hands to his bare back. "Climb on, Juvia. I'll take you home."

"Oi, oi, _Gray-sama,_" said Dragos mockingly, "no need to force yourself to be a proper gentleman. Juvia-chan knows you can't stand her, so why don't you stop now before you confuse her." He leered down at the dark-haired Fairy Tail mage, his lip curling in disgust. "Her affections are wasted on you."

"Gray-sama…" Juvia mumbled again, collapsing onto Gray's broad back.

He exhaled slowly, positioning her arms so that they wrapped around his corded neck—though, he was certain that she would accidentally choke him after five minutes—and then reached behind him to cup the bottoms of her shapely thighs in his large, calloused hands. Again, some part of his brain just had to whisper, _so soft_, as his fingers dug into her smooth, creamy, flawless skin. His throat was strangely parched all of the sudden…

Mavis, this was a bad idea. But, it was better than leaving her here with Dragos, he knew.

"You listening, _Gray-sama?_ Oi."

Speaking of the douchebag…

"All right, look," Gray hissed as he hoisted both himself and Juvia off of the floorboards, which creaked under their combined weight. "I don't know what your issue with me is. But, if you say one more word, I swear to all that's holy, I will knock your teeth loose. You feel me?" He knew the look on his face was absolutely, terrifyingly, pants-pissingly threatening. He could feel the way his eyes burned, like hot coals, into Dragos's flat gaze, and his mouth twisted into a snarl when the blonde didn't seem to get the hint.

_Don't fuck with me, buddy,_ was in the air, loud and clear.

Dragos took a step beck.

And that was all the confirmation that Gray needed. His ego efficiently stroked, the ice-make mage spun around, carefully making sure that Juvia didn't fall, and bee-lined for the tavern's exit. But not before calling out, "Just put this one's tab on the brunette's and she'll take care of it," to the barkeep.

It was the least Cana could do for inadvertently causing this whole mess.

Thankfully, the card mage had been too busy nursing her latest barrel of beer to hear him on his way out, though. Because he really, _really_ didn't feel like fighting with her right now. Any other day, Gray would have loved to take a swing at her—it'd been too long since the two of them had brawled. But now…now he was damn itchy. And _not_ in the literal sense.

Even though he'd told off that asswipe, Gray still felt…irritated with something. Something that he just couldn't name, though he knew it had to be important. And as he took that first step onto the cobblestone pavement, the night air thick and humid and dark as his own eyes, he felt the first tell-tale drip on his nose.

_Rain_.

"Dammit," he cursed, hefting Juvia up higher on his back as she began to sink lower. Her arms fell to her sides, dangling completely useless. Great. "Juvia… Oi, Juvia, hold onto my neck. My neck, hold onto it," he instructed multiple times, just to make sure that she both heard and understood him. He couldn't be too sure of anything right now.

When he didn't feel her stir on his back, or even mumble something, Gray turned his head to the side and began to tell her for a third time. But, before he could say anything, pale, slender arms lifted, slid around his collarbone, and enfolded his neck in a rough hug. She clasped her elbows. "Juvia is sorry…" was all that she said.

Another drip.

"Would you stop saying sorry?"

She'd apologized twice within ten minutes, and for some reason, that only served to irk him even further. Maybe because it was out of her character to apologize for stupid things… Or maybe it was because Juvia was strangely un-conversational. Save the two instances where she'd apologized, all she'd really said to him was his own name… Usually, Juvia was overly chatty with him. Wanting to know how his day had been, if he'd had fun, if he wanted to go out to eat…

Now, she was silent.

And the rain came down suddenly, hard, and in sheets.

"Shit!" Gray growled when his charcoal hair flattened and plastered all over his forehead and hung limply in his eyes. Made it difficult to see anything, even though he knew the way to Fairy Hills by heart. "Damn rain…"

Pale arms tightened around his neck. "Juvia… Juvia hates the rain…" Her voice was small, soft, but it was still so sad. Like when she'd first said his name back in the tavern.

And, again, Gray felt rooted into place and had to force his feet to keep moving, robotically stalking down the street. His heart did that funny lurching thing in his chest, the way it did when he felt…guilty about something. "I know," he replied, throat thick and hoarse. Mavis, what the hell did he have to feel guilty about, though?

He hadn't done anything wrong… At least, he didn't recall doing anything wrong.

…_Had_ he done something wrong?

Dammit, he didn't even know now!

How was it that Juvia managed to screw up his brain with only a few words? She always, _always_ did that, and he loathed it. He was usually pretty chill—and he'd used that pun plenty of times, because hell, it was funny, and he had a pretty good sense of humor—but after throwing Juvia into the mix… With just a look, she could make him seethe till his teeth hurt, or flush to the roots of his hair, or feel so guilty that he wanted to punch himself. Just a look.

He'd shot her down plenty of times for doing that to him. Usually after embarrassing him with her declarations of love—he was always very blunt, very clear, that he was not interested. And yet…she had such unwavering devotion to him.

And he had to admire that about her—Gray had always given credit where credit was due. She was resilient, persistent. Any normal woman would have given up by now. Because four years of the same game with the same results could lead one to throw in the towel permanently. But, Juvia had never given up… Not once in the past four years.

Even when Gray had found himself girlfriends to laze around with.

He paused briefly, strides faltering. Mavis, that wasn't why she'd drunken herself stupid, was it? Because she'd seen him with that girl earlier in the morning?

Damn it all.

"Oi, Juvia," Gray started, his tone full of uncertainty, "what you saw this morning…"

"Juvia understands," she whispered into his neck, the light puffs of her breath ghosting over his heated skin and making him shiver. "Gray-sama doesn't…like Juvia. Juvia understands…" Her voice had that lilt to it again, the one that made him want to rip out his own heart. "Gray-sama doesn't like Juvia at all…" she repeated.

He cursed again. So it _was_ about the girl she'd seen him with.

"Ah, look, Juvia, I – "

"Gray-sama hates Juvia."

This time, he did pause. She thought…that he hated her? "What the hell, Juvia? I never said that I – "

"Juvia always gives one-hundred and ten percent to Gray-sama… But Gray-sama doesn't give back. Gray-sama must hate Juvia…" the bluenette whimpered into his skin. And this time, even though it was pouring, Gray could feel the warm tears that landed on his collarbone. "Juvia is…embarrassing to Gray-sama… That girl said so… And for that, Juvia is sorry… Juvia didn't mean to embarrass Gray-sama..."

He didn't know what to say to that. So he started walking again.

It wasn't five minutes later that Gray was trudging up the stairs to the Fairy Hills complex, and up to the door that he knew was Juvia's. He'd been here plenty of times in the past four years, though Juvia was mostly unaware of his visits. "Okay, we're here. Where's your key, Juvia? Is it in your pocket?"

"Juvia's…key?" She sounded perplexed. And then, she let out a wet, sob-like gasp. "Juvia can't remember! Juvia lost the key!" the water mage exclaimed, squeezing Gray's neck tighter and clamping her thighs around his waist in a death grip that, had he not been used to it, would have left him gasping for air. "Juvia is sorry…" she wailed.

Gray only sighed. Of course. She'd probably left it at the bar.

Great, well now what was he supposed to do? He couldn't very well just leave her here on her doorstep in the rain. What, was he supposed to take her to his apartment or something?

The ice-make mage hung his head with a moan. Yep. That was exactly what he was supposed to do, dammit. It was a good thing that his apartment was only a few minutes away. Because, between the sleeting rain, and Juvia's extra weight, he was damn tired. Though he sure as hell wouldn't ever say that out loud—because, hello, that was ammo that Natsu could and _would_ use against him.

Going down the steps took longer. They were slick and easy to slip on from the rain, and with Juvia sobbing into his neck, and shaking against his back, it would take much for him to fall over. Thankfully, though, he managed to climb down them just fine and stalk off in the direction of his apartment.

It would be dirty, with mountains of dishes in the sink, and his laundry all over the floor since he hadn't been expecting company. But, it was a dry, warm place where she could rest until the morning. And then she would have to go fetch her key, or have a new one made.

If it was even possible, the rain seemed to fall harder than before. Pelting down, it soaked him to the bone, drenched his pants and made them chafe against his legs. Damn, he hated the rain sometimes. But, the chafing didn't last too long, as he finally, wondrously, found himself climbing the stairs that led to his apartment.

"Again with the stupid stairs, dammit…"

"…Juvia is – "

"Oi, I said stop apologizing. None of this is your fault, you understand me?" Gray said, sounding a little snappier than he had intended to, and dropped one hand from her lush thighs to root through his pocket for his keys. In the back of his mind, he thanked whatever deity there was for the fact that he still had his pants on—otherwise the two of them would have been utterly screwed.

Awkwardly, Gray balanced Juvia on his back, one hand holding her left thigh, the other working with his keys, and after unlocking the door, he nudged it open with his boot.

"Okay," he muttered, dropping his keys on the ground and kicking them in some random direction. He'd find them later. "Sorry, it's not clean, but it's better than sitting out in the rain all night." Slinking inside, he punted the door shut with his boot again, and flipped the lights with his spare hand before walking over to the couch.

He squatted down on his haunches and gingerly pried Juvia's arms from around his neck—vaguely aware that her skin was ice-cold—before letting her sink into his comfortable couch. In all her wet glory. Mavis, they were both soaked clean through; his pants were so water-logged that they sagged on his trim hips, just waiting to fall off. And there were puddles on the floor, he noted with disdain as his dark eyes scanned the room.

"Gonna have to clean that up…" he muttered to himself.

Juvia, also taking notice of the puddles, and her sopping attire, sniffled again. Her eyes filled with tears. "Gray-sama's couch will get wet. Juvia doesn't want to ruin Gray-sama's couch," she said, her voice filling with panic.

He couldn't resist rolling his eyes. "Relax, it's just a couch. And a little water never hurt anybody." When she calmed, if only slightly, at his words, he sighed and said, "Stay right there. I'll get you a towel." And she'd need something to wear, too, he realized after darting off to his bedroom.

He had plenty of spare shirts—was constantly buying new ones since he always managed to shed and lose them somewhere, or get them torn up in battle. But most of them were of poor quality, since he didn't want to go broke. Good shirts were damn expensive; he had no idea how girls could stand paying so much for a single shirt that they would probably ruin. The few shirts of higher quality that he did have were ones that he wore strictly at home, where he was sure to find them should he ever strip them off. And, the gentleman in him, though he was buried rather deeply, scowled at the thought of Juvia having to wear cheap material.

It would probably chafe that baby-smooth skin of hers.

So he, without a second thought, snatched one of his favorite house-shirts. A long-sleeved, black, cotton one that was his personal favorite. After stopping by the bathroom, grabbing a towel for Juvia and a towel for himself, he quickly went back to the living room, where Juvia sat, looking lost to the world on his couch.

She was still crying, he noticed as he squatted in front of her again. And now that he was looking at her face, he could see that her eyes were red and puffy, and that she hadn't taken off her mascara—it was dribbling down her cheeks in long, black smears that reminded him of ink blots. "Would you stop crying already?" he found himself saying exasperatedly, draping the soft towel over her gnarled, blue hair.

"Juvia can't…Juvia can't stop!" She shook her head and the towel flew askew. "Juvia is just so confused… Gray-sama doesn't like Juvia, and yet, Gray-sama is so nice to Juvia… Juvia doesn't understand!"

Sighing, knowing that she wouldn't think to dry herself off, Gray tugged the towel back over her head and began to rub her hair dry. "Look," he muttered, thankful that the towel blocked him from that pitiful gleam in her blue eyes, "I don't know where you got the idea that I hate you, but I don't." His hands were rough. He'd only ever dried himself off before; this was a new experience. "I never said that I hated you, Juvia…"

She sniffled, her nose sounding clogged from hours of crying. "But…but Gray-sama never gives back to Juvia… And Juvia only embarrasses Gray-sama; that girl said so… And Dragos-san said that Gray-sama doesn't like Juvia…"

Gray yanked the towel away from her head, urging her to stand up so that he could dry off the rest of her body. But, while he tried to make sure his hands were gentle, his eyes were not. "All right. First of all, that girl this morning was just an old…friend of mine. And trust me, I won't be seeing her again." Not if this was the result that followed.

Some of his _old friends_ were crazy. That girl—to be honest, he couldn't even remember her name—had been one of the crazy ones. Very clingy, insanely bratty, unbelievably jealous of anyone that hung around him, male or female.

"B-but Gray-sama kissed that girl…" Juvia protested weakly as he draped the cotton towel over her shoulders and began to rub up and down.

"No, _she_ kissed _me_. There's a difference." That kiss certainly hadn't been consensual on his part. "Second of all, why the hell were you drinking? Did you pick up that Dragos asshole at the bar?" he snorted, even though he already knew the answer. She had. Hell, Cana might have even told her to talk to him. "That's dangerous, Juvia. You don't know what kind of guy he was—he could have been a pervert."

Though, Gray supposed that he wasn't really one to talk… He stripped in the middle of the streets regardless of the time or the weather; people of all ages had witnessed him do so. How many times had he been arrested for public nudity? He'd honestly lost count by now. But, it had to be somewhere in the low hundreds.

"Juvia…didn't mean to drink. Cana-san said that – "

"You went to Cana, and she told you to take a few shots and hook up with some random guy in order to feel better," Gray surmised quickly and dropped her towel onto the floor before holding out his favorite shirt nonchalantly. "Wear this," he thrust it into her hands, "and for heaven's sake, Juvia, if you have an issue with me, come to me and say so. Don't get drunk… And _don't_ go to Cana, she gives terrible advice."

Cana, when asked for advice on anything, _always_ suggested beer and sex. In no particular order. And the last thing that Juvia needed was a string of one-night stands and hangovers. He'd been there—and the aftermath wasn't pretty.

Juvia nodded, sniffling. At least she wasn't bawling anymore. But, then she fingered the shirt in her hands, her blue brows dipping together in concentration. "This is…Gray-sama's shirt?" she asked.

"Er, well, yeah…" he said, toweling his own hair dry, and peeking at her though the wet mop of his dark hair. "Your clothes are wet, and I don't typically get attached to my clothing, so…" Well, he was attached to that particular shirt—but she didn't need to know that since she would probably cry.

A wet sniffle met his ears then, and Gray almost groaned. Before he could tell her to stop, Juvia was sobbing, "Gray-sama is so nice to Juvia! But Gray-sama doesn't like Juvia! Juvia doesn't know what to do anymore… Juvia tries so hard to please Gray-sama, but Gray-sama is embarrassed. Juvia doesn't know what to do!"

_And here we go again, _Gray thought miserably. Honestly, Juvia was incorrigible when she was drunk. It was like everything he said went in one ear and out the other. "Juvia, I said I didn't hate you. I could never hate you, you know that."

"No, no, Gray-sama doesn't understand…" the bluenette protested, wringing the black shirt in her porcelain hands. "Gray-sama doesn't…_like_ Juvia… But Juvia _likes_ Gray-sama. A lot."

_Oh_.

He sucked in a breath. She was talking about _that_ kind of like. The _love_ kind of like. "Er, listen, Juvia…" Gray began hesitantly, his voice cracking. Dammit, why was it so hard to shoot her down this time? He felt like in doing so…he was stabbing himself in the gut. He felt…guilty about denying her. Which was strange.

He had no reason to feel guilty about turning her down. If he didn't like someone, then it wasn't a crime to tell them so, and he'd never felt bad about it before. So why, all of the sudden, did he feel so…bitter about it?

Surely, it wasn't because he might actually, possibly, _maybe_…have feelings for her as well? No, that couldn't be it, Gray told himself stubbornly. It _couldn't._ But, the more he tried to convince himself of that, the more he realized that back at the bar…his fury had sparked in a fit of _jealousy_. Nothing more. The fact that she'd been drunk had only amplified that feeling—the feeling that he needed to protect his _nakama_, _his_ friend. And, along with that, the more he realized that hearing her bawl and cry over seeing him with another woman made him feel like the lowest of the low, not worth much more than gutter scum.

He felt guilty…because he _cared_. He cared about her, dammit. Fine, he would admit it. It was more than like, but less than love, in an awkward stage that he hated. And because he cared, he didn't want to see her cry her eyes out over something stupid. And he didn't want her getting drunk again. Especially not with strange men in the room, because they would no doubt try to take advantage of her, like Dragos had attempted.

Sighing, Gray hung his head, his towel hanging around his thick neck and his thumbs hooking themselves into the belt loops of his pants. "All right, look. Juvia…I _do_ like you. Maybe not as much as you like me, but I do like you; make no mistake about that…"

Juvia looked up at him, her reddened eyes brimming with tears. "Gray-sama…likes Juvia?" she whispered.

He swallowed. What the hell was he getting himself into? "Yeah, I do. Like I said, maybe not as much as you like me, but I do – "

Whatever he'd been about to say was cut off as Juvia, out of nowhere, launched herself at him—her whole body colliding with his, every inch of her pressing into him—and smashed her plump, kissable lips against his dry ones in a rough, uncoordinated kiss. Her hands found their way to the back of his neck, tugging him closer, and her fingers curled into the short, midnight-colored strands at his nape. Gray's own hands were frozen, and he could only stand there, shocked, as she moved her mouth against his so pliantly, willingly, _temptingly_…

Mavis, her lips were so damn _soft_.

And so was the rest of her, from what he could feel. Her large breasts, which could fill his whole hands—as he'd discovered by accident years ago—were meshed to his chest, and so was her slim waist and curvy hips. Dammit, she was so luscious. The perfect combination of cute and sexy; just enough cute to make him smirk, and just enough sexy to tempt him to…

_Mavis_.

What was he doing? Juvia was _drunk_. He wouldn't dare be so much of a bastard as to actually take advantage of a woman who was not in her right mind.

Reluctantly, and a part of him was loathe to admit said reluctance, Gray gripped her by the shoulders and tore away from the oh, _so_ soft warmth that Juvia's lips and body offered. His fingers bit into the fabric of her soaked jacket.

"Juvia, I… We can't…" he said in a strangled voice. Gray winced. He sounded winded, like he'd run for hours without rest, like the very breath had been stolen from him lungs. "You're…not yourself right now."

Damn straight she wasn't herself. He didn't even mind admitting to himself that he liked her better when she was completely lucid, and not so blubbery, and a bit more cheery.

Juvia bit her reddened lips, blue eyes swimming with tears again. "Gray-sama…does not want Juvia? Even though Gray-sama likes Juvia?" she murmured, hiccupping. "Juvia doesn't understand…"

"Mavis," Gray growled, "yes, I want you – " And he cursed. _Fuck,_ what was wrong with his mouth? It was saying things all on its own, without asking permission from his brain first. He hated when Juvia did that to him. "Yes…okay, yes, I…want you…" he repeated more slowly. "But, Juvia, you're drunk right now. Chances are, you won't remember a thing that's happened tonight. And if we…if we are together," his voice croaked, like an embarrassed teenager's, "I want you to remember it. Do you understand?"

She blinked back at him, sniffling once, twice, before gingerly bobbing her head in a short nod. Her voice was shaky when she said, "Can…can Juvia cuddle with Gray-sama?"

An exhale burst from him—an odd combination or relief and disappointment. Relief that she'd understood him, and yet, disappointment because _she'd understood him_. Dammit. He was so torn up over her. How did she manage to do that to him? Was this what Natsu felt around Lucy? If so, then he suddenly understood why the fire dragonslayer was so…_dopey_ around her.

"Yeah… Yeah, we can…cuddle." _Cuddle,_ he'd said. He'd never, ever cuddled—not even with his girlfriends. Cuddling was too…intimate. But, the thought of curling up with Juvia, letting her sleep next to him, feeling her warmth lull him to dream… Somehow, it didn't sound all that bad. He glanced down at the shirt on the floor, between their legs. "But, let's get changed first."

All that wet clothing had to be irritating her skin. Mavis knew the skin on his thighs was raw from the wet denim of his pants constantly rubbing against it.

Leading Juvia to his bedroom took longer than he expected—her legs were still wobbly, like a newborn calf's. But, she leaned into him, no longer sniffling, or sobbing, or even murmuring, and wrapped her arms around his torso in a hug. And once he'd brought her to his bed, and sat her down…she willingly let him undress her.

His breath caught in his throat, and he tried not to let his eyes linger for longer than was appropriate…but he failed. Her skin, like he'd thought, was so perfect. White like milk, smooth like porcelain, blemish-free like newly forged glass. No freckles, no moles, no scars. And her body… Mavis, her body was like something out of a fantasy. Plump in all the right places—breasts, hips, thighs—and thinner in others—neck, waist, calves. She was a masterpiece, a godly creation that made everything else he'd seen pale in comparison; and she was still wearing her underwear.

She was utterly _beautiful_.

And he found himself murmuring so, "So damn beautiful…" as he reluctantly tugged that black, long-sleeved shirt on over her head.

Juvia then curled into a ball on the bed, tucking her hands underneath her chin, and leaving Gray to kick off his pants. His boxers were a little damp, but, hell, he didn't have to patience to root through his drawers for another pair, dash to the bathroom to tug them on, and then dash back to jump into bed with her. So, he snatched the throw-blanket that sat on the foot of his large, king-sized bed, and tossed it over the both of them as he crawled onto the comforter.

"Gray-sama…" Juvia murmured, body uncurling to search for him.

He let her nestle into his broad chest, snuggle against him, and sigh into his heated flesh. And he had to bite back a groan. So soft. "Goodnight, Juvia…" he rasped as he tentatively ran a hand down the back of her head, fingers combing through her blue hair that reminded him of the ocean on a clear summer's day.

"Gray-sama?" Juvia's voice was small.

"Hm?"

"…I love you…"

And the fact that she'd dropped her habit of speaking in third-person floored him. He was thunderstruck. A part of him had honestly wondered if she could even speak in first-person… Apparently, she could. And apparently, she saved speaking in such a way for time where she wanted to be taken very, _very_ seriously.

His heart swelled, a blooming of something beginning in his chest. It was a feeling he recognized, but one he'd not felt for a very, very long time. It was the stirrings of love. Right then and there he knew he was doomed. Doomed to fall in love with this woman—as obsessive, clingy, and fanatical as she was. But, it wasn't so bad, he thought. _She_ wasn't so bad. If she'd forced him to start falling in love with her, she had to be special. Mavis knew just how _special_ Juvia was, he thought with a dry chuckle.

"I know…" he whispered back.

There would come a day when he would be able to say those three words back to her, completely unreserved, and bare, and open. But, this was not that day. This was only the beginning. However, he had no doubt that they would eventually reach that point. And, strangely…he was looking forward to it.

That night, he fell asleep with a woman for the first time. And that night, the rain poured—a testament to their beginning.

* * *

_**So? How was it? Leave a few comments! I hope Gray wasn't too OOC... Hmm... Well, either way, long live Gruvia!**_


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